Title: Tristan's Tale

Author: sabor ice

Rating: Mature 13 and up

Summary: This is a story about the lone knight, Tristan.

One

It was near dawn. The east horizon glowed warmly its pinkish orange colors as the sun rose to greet the lands. Tristan had been awake since before dawn. He went to the same hill he always went to to watch the sunrise. His dark eyes need not be shielded from the oncoming light, for he had watched the sun many times, and it never once stung his eyes. He sat upright, one of his knees tucked under his elbow, and silently watched until the sun was fullly in the sky. Watching the sun rise and set had become a tradition for Tristan. He always appreciated the ways of nature and the laws of the wilderness. It had been a beautiful sunrise indeed.

Inhaling the fresh air around him deeply, Tristan stood and slung his bow and arrows over his shoulder. He had left his village before anyone else was awake. His village was small, and mostly consisted of women and children. Tristan was younger than most of the men, most would still call him a boy, although he was nearly 17. He didn't get along with most of the men that well, and he didn't care much for the noisy children that pestured him day in and day out. But, the village suited him, and Tristan was fine with that.

He turned from the path he walked and ventured into the forests. Tristan knew if he were to be caught hunting alone, he'd be punished, because it wasn't his turn to go, but he didn't care. Tristan learned long ago that if he wanted something, he had to get it for himself. In this case, Tristan was starving, and he was going to go hunting no matter what anyone said. He'd been whipped enough times by the village elders for his disobediance, but he learned to take the pain and move on after each beating. The only person he really trusted was himself, but other than that, he found it easy to have trust in the village doctor as well. Her name was Elanesa, and she was always good and kind to Tristan. (He often was sent to her after his beatings.) Tristan pushed the whole thing from his mind, because he wasn't going to let it bother him today. Today he was going hunting.

Stalking about in the brush, Tristan found a nice spot to lay down on the ground and wait for deer to appear to come and drink from the nearby spring. He drew his bow and arrow and lay silently between some trees that blocked view of any animal looking for danger. A smile ran across Tristan's lips as a female deer came into plain view. He wanted to laugh at how easy this was. He slowly raide his bow and aimed to kill the deer at the neck or heart, so it would die and not suffer. Tristan didn't kill for kill, or as a game, as some of the other men did, but he only killed what he needed. He'd take all the meat back with him that he didn't eat, and the deer skin to make shoes and saddle bags.

As Tristan was about to release his arrow, though, another arrow whizzed through the air and struck the deer down. Tristan jumped to his feet as he saw the deer kick frantically with its legs, trying to rid the arrow from it's side. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed Tristan by his tunic and lifted him off the ground. Tristan's bow fell aside as he struggled to free himself from the man's grip.

"Out again, are ye?" the man said. "Thought you would have learned your lesson by now, Tristan."

"Kill her, Drumas," Tristan replied, looking him square in the eye.

Drumas laughed and turned Tristan around to face the deer. "What 'er? What's the matter, don't like watching her squirm?"

The deer still kicked, and even tried to get up. Tristan tried to look away, but was forced to watch the deer until it finally died. Drumas pulled Tristan up to his filthy face and sneered at him.

"Bastard, you could have just killed her," Tristan muttered under his breath.

Drumas striked Tristan across the face, but he only rose his head proudly once again.

"Don't you ever tell me what to do again, ya hear?" Drumas said. "I'll make sure the elders give you twice the beating this time! Maybe that'll teach you one and for all!"

The huge man dropped Tristan to his feet. Tristan eyed his weapon that lay on the ground, his hair falling over one of his eyes.

"Go ahead," Drumas said. "Pick it up."

Tristan didn't take his eyes off of the burly man as he bent down to reclaim his bow. As he touched the weapon, though, Drumas raised the end of his bow and smacked Tristan on the head with it. Tristan fell to his knees, and the world seemed to spin. Then, he was struck again, and he saw nothing but blackness.

When Drumas brought Tristan back to the village, about a mile from the hunting grounds, the townspeople and village elders were already assembled at the town square. Drumas dropped Tristan onto the steps near the foot of the Building of the Elders. He crawled slightly to get up, and looked up at the head elder, Serco. The older man stood dressed in his robe-like clothing, his weary eyes focused down on Tristan. As he began to stand, Drumas kicked Tristan to his knees again. Serco approached him, then.

"Tristan, when will you ever learn to obey the laws of this village?" Serco asked in his groggy voice. "Have you not yet learned you lesson?"

Tristan kept his eyes averted, and would not speak to the elder.

"I hate to see like this, but you must understand my position, and the position of all the elders," Serco continued. "You know now that you must be punished for your actions, as an example."

"And, Drumas killing an animal and leaving its corpse to rot, was that one of your examples, too?" Tristan said in a monotone voice.

Serco sighed heavily, and placed his bony arms behind his back. "Twenty lashes."

Twenty lashes it was, and Drumas delievered each one to Tristan's back with the greatest of pleasure. Before the pain took over his clouded mind, Tristan's last thought was of Drumas, and how when he decided to kill a man, he would be the first.

Tristan awoke in the infirmary a day later. He tried sit up, but pain seered through his aching back. Noticing him awake, the doctor quickly went to Tristan and offered an arm to help him. Tristan declined and forced his body to sit upright.

"I'm glad to see you awake, I was a bit worried. I thought they overdid the punishment so," Elanesa said, getting a cloth wet to clean Tristan's wounds again.

Stiffening in his seat, Tristan winced everytime the doctor applied the cloth to the lash marks on his back. She shook her head slightly.

"I really do wish you would stop leaving the village as you do, Tristan," she said, her curly blond hair falling in her face. "Someday they are going to whip you to death."

"Then, so be it," Tristan answered. "Sometimes I wish that would be best."

"You musn't speak that way. I know you, Tristan, I know what great potential you have," answered Elanesa. "I've seen you shoot; I've seen you swordfight. You are a natural."

"Well, you're the only one who seems to think so," Tristan replied.

The doctor finished cleaning Tristan's wounds and began to bandage him. Tristan elevated his arms slightly, so she could wrap the cloth around him.

"Don't worry about Drumas, or the elders, or any of them," Elanesa said. "You and I both know what greatness you have deep inside you, and that's what's important. Someday soon, I know, you'll show the world what you can do."

"You make me sound like some kind of hero out of a storybook. It's not reality," Tristan said, looking at the young woman.

She looked up at him as she tied off his bandages. "Then, promise me one thing, Tristan. Promise me you won't get yourself killed."

"Everything dies," Tristan answered.

"But, not you, not yet," she said. "Promise me, for our friendship's sake."

Tristan peered forward again, away from the doctor's deep gaze. He sighed and nodded in response. Tristan wasn;t afriad of dying, but he promised her that he would stay alive. "For our friendship's sake."

Elanesa dipped her head slightly, and conjured up a small smile for him. She placed her hand gently on his arm, that held the same arrow tattoos as his face did. "You should go back to your quarters and get some sleep. There has been called a counsel for all of us in the morning."

Tristan nodded to her again and stood. He walked over to a chair and retreived his clothing, before exited the doctor's quarters.

End 'One.'